


In His Arms

by Quicksilvermad



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Bear Attack, F/M, First Time, Romance, Smut, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25014949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilvermad/pseuds/Quicksilvermad
Summary: Rosalie Hale sees his face and wonders what her life could have been like had she met him in different circumstances.
Relationships: Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	In His Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2012.

They relocated to Gatlinburg in the spring of 1935. Rosalie was quick to remove herself from the Cullen household as often as possible (much to Carlisle's thinly-veiled consternation). Having finally reached past that point in her new "life" where she felt comfortable around the teeming life of the small town. She mostly stayed within the limits of the dance hall and the small theater that showed Charlie Chaplin movies every Thursday night.

It was an escape from the two who sought to place her under that thumb of "female obedience" that even Esme struggled beneath. Rosalie resented Carlisle and downright _hated_ Edward. Not because of his attitude (not alone, at least), but because of the horrid feeling of powerlessness they placed in her heart with the implications of her turning.

Carlisle meant for her to be Edward's _mate._

It was disgusting.

At the moment, Rosalie sat at a secluded table in the dance hall and was putting a bottle of warm root beer to her lips every so often to "sip" at it. Three feet away from her and closing was a handsome man. He couldn't have been older than twenty and stood tall enough that Rosalie had to crane her neck to see his face.

He had blue eyes, curly black hair, and he was smiling at her. He his expression was so guileless that Rosalie found herself smiling back for the first time in a long time.

He had dimples.

God, that was cute.

"Hi, I'm Emmett McCarty," he said, extending a work-worn hand to her. "I've seen you here a couple times."

Rosalie felt something she thought she would _never_ feel again. Comfort. And attraction. Goodness, but he was handsome…

She raised her hand and placed it in his.

"Rosalie Hale," she responded.

To her surprise, Emmett McCarty took her hand, shifted his fingers beneath hers, and raised her knuckles to his lips in a perfectly gentlemanly manner.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miz Hale," he said and carefully let go of her hand.

Her smile widened. "Please, call me Rose."

If it was possible, Emmett's dimples got even deeper along with his smile. "Okay, Rose, call me Emmett," he tongued his cheek nervously and cleared his throat. "You wanna dance, Rose?"

He jerked his thumb at the dance floor where a rowdy song was starting. She gave it half a moment of consideration, nodded, and stood.

"I would love to, Emmett."

They danced. For such a large fellow, Emmett was light on his feet and Rosalie laughed for the first time in a long while. She felt carefree and _safe_ in his large arms.

She started making a habit of it—seeking Emmett out for a few dances and going to the cinema with him. She spent Thursday nights laughing with him during the Chaplin film marathons and leaning into Emmett's warmth during slow dances on Saturdays.

She welcomed his casual touches and confided in him about her previous relationship and how she came to be in Gatlinburg (minus a few details) with her "aunt" Esme. Emmett, having left home to work for the railroad company building new track, understood her urge to "get out" and mentioned weekend hunting trips through the Smoky Mountains.

After their more serious conversations, he would deliberately lighten the mood with bawdy tales of other things he and his fellow rail workers got up to during other weeknights. Emmett was full of stories Carlisle would disapprove of, and for that alone Rosalie was grateful. He made her laugh.

With Emmett, Rosalie didn't need to keep that "image" she put forth from day to day around the rest of the people of Gatlinburg. She finally felt like herself again.

It was very late the on an unseasonably cold Thursday night after watching _City Lights,_ two months after that first dance, when she made up her mind about him. Emmett led Rosalie out of the theater to his car (a '29 Ford Woody that he bought second-hand from a friend) in the alley behind the theater with the intention of driving her home. She hadn't stopped smiling all night.

Emmett McCarty's smile was infectious, to say the least. She blamed the dimples. She was always a sucker for dimples.

"So how long are y'all gonna be here in Gatlinburg?" Emmett asked her—his left arm still formed in a thick band around her slim waist.

"I'm not sure," she answered. "I'm never really certain."

Emmett raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Then I s'pose I should stop pussy-footin' around," he said.

He angled his head down and softly pressed his lips to hers, and Rosalie surrendered herself to her first _real_ kiss. She remembered the harshness of Royce's mouth (she couldn't forget it, thanks to Carlisle) and the lips that eased hers apart were soft and pleading—not demanding and harsh. The kiss was so unfamiliar and _warm_ that Rosalie fairly melted into Emmett's arms.

She felt her throat tighten with an emotion she couldn't quite name and touched his scruffy jaw with one hand.

With a quiet whimper, Rosalie twined her fingers through his hair, leaned harder against his body, and made her own choice for once. Her breasts pressed against his chest and absorbed the warmth his body easily shared. He felt like a furnace in Antarctica—waking her skin for the first time _ever._ Rosalie never felt alive until that moment in which Emmett's lips caressed hers.

How ironic.

Rosalie couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips. It was funny, after all. Emmett's fingertips toyed with the edges of her blouse and skimmed the soft skin of her abdomen. The sensation was amazing.

Emmett abruptly pulled away from her and he cleared his throat—taking in a huge lungful of cold night air and absently rubbing his work-roughened hands up and down the length of Rosalie's arms.

"Probably ain't the best idea to be doin' this out so public-like," he muttered.

Rosalie smiled against his neck. "There's always the back of your car."

He laughed and cradled the back of her head, trying to smother the loud sound of his mirth in her hair. "You serious?"

Frustrated, she ran her tongue from his neck to his collar bone and pulled his shirt open to keep moving her mouth down...

"Whoa, angel, let's just—"

"Back. Of. Your. Car," she growled against his skin and shoved him lightly against the car door.

He smiled and goosed her backside. "I ever tell you you're pretty damn strong?"

Rosalie nodded absently and untucked his shirt.

Emmett fumbled with the door handle behind him. "Okay, back of the car it is."

The suicide door swung wide and Rosalie smiled at the size of the back seat.

He let her push him backwards into the car and watched her slam the door again. She unpinned her hair from the lazy up-do she'd twisted it into before their date and tossed the bobby pins somewhere in the front seat. Emmett had about two seconds to take in how the dim street lamps at the mouth of the alley illuminated her hair like a halo before she fell back onto his chest and pulled his suspenders and shirtsleeves off.

"Wow, angel," he muttered against the top of her head.

"Mmm."

Emmett untucked Rosalie's high-necked blouse and felt for the zipper. Grumbling against his skin again, she reached back and grabbed the hand that wasn't sneaking up under her skirt. She dragged it up behind her neck and made sure he could feel the zipper pull against her skin. Rosalie felt his chin nudge the crown of her head and smiled when she heard his triumphant exclamation.

"Aha!" he unzipped the back of her blouse and yanked it over her head and arms in one swift tug. "Damn it, woman," Emmett groaned. She was wearing a chemise and bra underneath. "Why are you wearing so many _clothes?_ "

Rosalie surprised herself when she laughed. She didn't think it was normal to laugh during sex. At least, she'd never heard Esme and Carlisle laugh and those two seemed to forget that there were others in the house who had quite excellent hearing. Her real mother told her that intercourse was supposed to be a serious thing, but Emmett… Emmett was _fun._

He noticed the thoughtful look in her eye and gathered her loose blonde hair into one hand. The fingers of his free hand continued to caress the bare skin of her thighs beneath her skirt. He skimmed over the clasps of her garter belt and snapped one against her leg. He never stopped smiling at her.

"It's not fair," Rosalie finally said. "You've got trousers and shorts and I've got all this other stuff."

Emmett played with her hair. "We could be naked later," he suggested.

Rose smiled again and leaned forward, rocking her hips against him and running her finger along the button-fly of his trousers. "Promise?" she asked and popped the button.

"Rose, I'm a good Southern boy. I promise we'll get _nekkid,_ " he drawled, "next time. If you don't mind our first time bein' a little cramped."

She let his voice wash over her and felt so _different_ when he looked at her. She felt like he was actually seeing her. She wasn't just a pretty girl to him. Rosalie may not have gotten any special "gifts" when she was changed, but she swore she could feel Emmett reading her mind sometimes.

Like at that very moment. His hand stilled on her thigh and he stared into her eyes.

He sat up halfway and leaned his weight on his elbows, pressing his hips up once without thinking. She wanted to tease him back, but the look in his eyes made her stop.

"I need to tell you somethin', angel, and I need you to know how serious I am about this."

Despite all of her supernatural strength, Rosalie was weakened by him. She nodded and waited for him to continue speaking. Emmett felt good, sounded good, smelled good, and _was_ so very good...

He easily stretched to kiss her and sat there—hands levering himself up to her—with his mouth tipped against hers as he spoke. "I'm in love with you, Rosalie. I think I've been in love with you since you snorted when you laughed at the Tramp that first time we saw _The Circus_ together at the matinee."

Rosalie wished more than anything for the ability to cry at that moment, because it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her. She couldn't do much else but carefully hold his cheek and kiss him.

"I think I might be in love with you, too, Emmett," she whispered.

He smiled brightly at her and pulled her body down on top of him. He pulled the straps of her chemise down over her shoulders and she closed her eyes when his large, work-worn hands caressed her breasts through her satin brassiere.

Rosalie had never felt this way before. She wasn't sure that, as a vampire, it was possible to get the "low-down-butterflies" sensation any longer. Out of all the things that she did or thought of doing to recreate the feeling of a pounding heartbeat, she didn't quite think that sex would be as warming as it was.

As Emmett kissed her neck and ran his teeth along her collarbone, Rosalie really did feel like her heart started beating again.

With her hands tangled in his hair and her hips rocking against his, she groaned and found herself reflexively breathing hard. "Emmett..."

He tipped his head in her grasp and ran his thumb along the center of her panties. She practically buried his face in her cleavage when he shifted the fabric to the side and repeated the maneuver on her bare skin.

Rosalie could feel something new. Lower and deeper, every sense in her body started to come into sharper focus. Wanting more of it, she tugged Emmett free of his shorts and trousers.

"Rose—"

"I _need_ you," she growled at him and her eyes seemed to flash in the low light.

Entranced, Emmett watched her face and guided her against his lap. He carefully used his free hand to press himself into her and lost sight of her for a moment as he closed his eyes. When he looked again, Rosalie was staring at his face in awe.

She was entirely unaware, until that moment, that anything could feel as good as the _filled_ sensation she was experiencing. When Emmett moved his hips beneath her, her mouth dropped open and she let out a little squeak.

He smiled and brushed the pad of his thumb on the concentrated knot of nerves at their connection. Rosalie's left leg jerked against the seat and she chased after the sensation by grinding her hips and leaning forward. Her forehead wrinkled delicately as she closed her eyes and concentrated on the growing feeling of something _new._

"Jesus, woman," Emmett groaned into her neck and moved his hips and thumb just a little faster. He wasn't going to last very long. Not with how tight she was around him.

Her eyes suddenly widened as her body flooded with new warmth. She cried out and felt herself gasp for air she didn't need—the sensation of pleasure built faster and faster. Everything seemed to focus into one point, sharpening with each thrust of Emmett's hips.

Rosalie's world suddenly collapsed and her body snapped taught. She shouted as light danced behind her eyes. Dimly, through the rushing sound and low ringing noise in her ears, she heard Emmett swear and gasp beneath her. Her body twitched as his slammed into her three more times, and she immediately felt like all of her bones had liquefied. Rosalie fell forward onto Emmett's chest and he let out a puff of surprised air.

Emmett caught his breath a bit and righted her underthings when he separated his body from hers. Her hand curled against her cheek and she looked at him through her eyelashes while listening to his heart hammer against his ribs. She felt both sated and hungry at once and wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"You okay?" he asked her.

She smiled a little when his voice cracked. "Yeah. It felt so _good,_ " she admitted.

Emmett pulled the straps of her chemise back over her shoulders and dragged his fingers through her hair. "Well, I'm glad for that," he said.

Slightly embarrassed, Rosalie helped Emmett redress to keep her hands and eyes busy while she continued to talk. "I mean, I've never...You know."

He buttoned up his pants and let her fix his shirt. "It kinda felt like the world stopped spinning, huh?"

She finished buttoning his shirt back up and snapped his suspenders with a saucy grin. "My ears were ringing," she admitted.

Emmett smirked and waggled his eyebrows. Laughing, Rosalie gently smacked his arm and picked her blouse off the floor of the car. "Drive me home, Mr. McCarty."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. Rosalie stole a kiss as he started the engine and they both laughed in the giddy atmosphere.

———

Hours after Rosalie's "curfew," Emmett walked her to her front door, kissed her goodnight, and waited until he heard the lock turn from the opposite side before he strolled back to the Woody and drove home. She leaned against the door and smiled into her hands. Her stockings had runs, her hair was a mess, and her lipstick was long gone, but Rosalie Hale did not care.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Through the darkened foyer, she could clearly see Edward standing at the second landing of the staircase that led to his "cordoned off" section of the house. His eyes were black.

"You need to go feed, Edward," she suggested. Thinking she was done, Rosalie headed toward the second staircase and slipped her heels off as she walked.

Edward quickly darted into her path and blocked her. "He's just a human, Rosalie. A boring, appetizing human. You didn't know what he was thinking about—"

She rolled her eyes. "Was it sex? Because I really hope he was thinking about sex with me in the back seat of his car."

Edward leaned into her personal space and scented her. She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat and elbowed him away. But not before he hissed like some kind of angry cat.

"Would you back _off,_ Edward? I need to clean myself up."

His voice started off so low that Rosalie almost missed it, "You let him... _Touch_ you like some sort of harlot."

This time Rosalie made a fist, hauled back her arm, and punched her fake brother right in the neck.

She breezed down the hallway and left him as he was: bent over and reflexively holding his throat. As Edward recovered for the physical blow and the psychological hit he just took, he wondered how long he would have to put up with her. Maybe if she slipped up and ate someone Carlisle would rethink his rash decision in turning her.

After Rosalie finished bathing, she sat in front of her vanity mirror to go through her usual nightly routine of brushing her hair and she ended up staring at herself. She felt like she should look different after the night she had. Her lips should have been bruised and her cheeks should have a whisker burn.

Instead, she looked as flawless as usual.

Behind her, Esme walked into Rosalie's room and placed her hands on the blonde's shoulders. She dropped a kiss on the crown of her head and ran her fingers through her hair. "You're in love, aren't you?" Esme guessed.

Rosalie met the other woman's eyes in the mirror and took comfort in the understanding she saw there. She didn't have to say a word—Esme could see the strength of the emotion in Rosalie's eyes and how she sat. There was a confidence and contentment in her that she hadn't possessed before.

"I wish I met him before all of," Rosalie grimaced and waved a hand at her reflection, "this happened."

Esme sighed and sat on the chaise lounge behind the vanity set. "Have I met him?" she asked.

Rosalie went back to brushing her hair and smirked. "None of you have met him. Edward wouldn't 'approve' of his demeanor."

Esme laughed quietly. "Will you tell me about him? I'm curious about the man who has made you so much happier."

Rosalie turned around smiled widely. "His name is Emmett, he works on the railroad, and he makes me laugh. He's tall and handsome, Esme. He can dance, he likes cars almost as much as I do, and he loves me."

Esme smiled. "That's all that matters. I hope we don't have to move again... You deserve some happiness after all."

Rosalie went back to brushing her hair and felt her throat tighten up with the alien sensation of burning hunger. It was brief enough that she felt comfortable in putting off hunting for another day. Emmett mentioned that he was going turkey hunting on Saturday morning, and she wanted to surprise him at his house before he went to sleep for the night.

Down the hall, she and heard Edward whispering. "It won't work. You'll just end up killing him. I cannot believe you _fornicated_ with him. Only whores do that sort of thing. Intercourse out of wedlock…"

Esme rolled her eyes and Rosalie felt the sting of his insult. He knew exactly what Royce and his friends did to her, but he insisted on needling her about it. At first, she'd assumed it was because he didn't like her disrupting the family image he had going on with Carlisle and Esme. The more he spoke about it, however, the more she realized that he simply delighted in her pain.

And now, he was jealous.

Esme had dealt with the same jealousy from Edward in the beginning and felt obligated to get him to move on. She stood from the chaise lounge and headed for the door, brushing a comforting hand across Rosalie's shoulder as she passed. "I'll get him to calm down. I don't think he had sex explained to him when he was human…"

Rosalie decided then that she wouldn't let Edward ruin her newfound happiness no matter what.

She spent the rest of the night picking out what to wear for Friday and snuck out to catch Emmett working on the Woody after lunch.

His legs were sticking out from under the chassis and he blindly groped for the drip pan. Rosalie gently kicked it toward him. She was rewarded with Emmett's booming laughter.

He rolled out on the creeper and smiled up at her. "Hey, doll! You're lookin' gorgeous today. I love the trousers."

Rosalie helped him stand and kissed him softly. When she pulled back, she wiped at the huge streak of grease painted across the bridge of his nose. She laughed softly. "You're dirty. It's a good look for you."

"Well, I'm a pretty _dirty_ guy, angel," Emmett teased.

"I, uh, came by to see you before you left for your hunt in the morning," Rosalie admitted.

His smile widened and deepened the dimples in his cheeks. He trapped her face between his palms and stared at her eyes. "Sure you don't wanna come with? You might like huntin'."

She wrinkled her nose. "Nah. Turkeys give me the willies."

Emmett laughed again and pulled her close when she joined him. "Shit, they are pretty ugly."

Rosalie laced her hands with his and let herself get swept away in the sound of his pulse and the smell of his skin. After a few moments, Emmett dragged her toward the Ford and handed her a torque wrench.

"You get the oil filter, and I'll finish underneath," he said.

Together, they spent the overcast afternoon tuning up the Ford and ended the evening on a high note. Emmett made another date with Rosalie and she cheerfully kissed him goodbye. She had her own hunting to do tomorrow.

———

Rosalie had been tracking a bear for a few miles when she caught wind of Emmett's familiar scent. She frowned, momentarily surprised that he was as far out in the mountains as she was. It was starting to drizzle and Rosalie could smell fresh blood from a pair of turkeys as well as the musk of the bear she was following.

She barely had time to scream out a warning when the bear lumbered into Emmett's encampment and swiped a large paw across the young man's chest. Rosalie ran as fast as she could and intercepted the bear's second attack—grabbing the beast's front leg and twisting hard enough to break the bone.

She could hear Emmett let out a pained gasp behind her. Viciously, Rosalie sank her teeth into the bear's jugular and did not let go until the animal let out a low groan. Once it was dead, she tossed the carcass aside and immediately knelt by Emmett's side. His chest was destroyed.

"Oh, Emmett," she whispered.

"That was somethin' else, angel," Emmett coughed. Rosalie looked down at herself—she was covered in blood and fur. Shakily, Emmett reached up and clumsily wiped some of the blood off her chin. "Y'got somethin' to tell m-me?"

Rosalie took his hand in hers and felt like crying, but her body wouldn't produce the tears. She tried to avoid looking at his wound, but there was nothing for it. "I'm... I'm a vampire, Emmett."

A few minutes ago, he would have laughed it off and changed the subject. A few minutes ago, he wouldn't have been on the verge of dying. Now, Emmett could only look Rosalie in the eye and nod. He could believe her. He just saw her tear apart a bear.

"I'm dyin', aren't I?"

Rosalie gasped and tightened her hold on his body. The first thought that came to mind was taking Emmett to Carlisle, and she couldn't get rid of the idea once it took root. "I can save you," she whispered. "But you'd have to give everything up."

"You?" he asked.

Rosalie shook her head. "Everything but me, Emmett."

He tried to smile, but she could see that he was fading fast. "Do what you gotta, angel," he whispered.

Wasting no time, she scooped Emmett up into her arms and started running. The smell of his blood lingered in her nose, but she held her breath and just ran through the woods as fast as she could. It didn't take long for her to reach the Cullen house and wrench open the front door.

"Carlisle!" she shouted.

Esme descended the staircase first and, seeing the mangled young man in Rosalie's arms, sprang into action. She cleared the dining room table of her design work and helped the younger woman lay Emmett down on it.

"Rosalie, what happened?"

"A bear. We have to help him!"

Carlisle appeared soon after and gave Rosalie a dubious look for a moment. It was long enough that she felt like slapping him. "It was a _bear,_ Carlisle—"

"Big one, too," Emmett croaked out.

Seeing that he was awake, Carlisle immediately began drilling him on the situation. Whether or not he understood what he was asking for. That it would be painful and he could never see his loved ones once it happened. That he would have to abide by a set of strict rules once he was turned.

"Do it," was all Emmett said. He barely got the words out through the blood he was choking on.

And Carlisle did it. The screaming was horrible to listen to, but Rosalie never left Emmett's side.

She never would leave his side.


End file.
